


Sisters, Brothers

by Tish



Category: Violent Playground (1958)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Siblings, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 21:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14387679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish
Summary: Moments of serenity and hope, of pain and despair from the intersecting lives of 2 sets of siblings.





	Sisters, Brothers

Primrose watched the wake of the ship as the night closed in. Back there was home, in front, weeks from now, her new home lay. She turned and set out for the prow, pulling her cardigan closer as she walked.

She found Alexander clutching onto the railings, craning forward as the ship plowed on. “Don't fall over, it's nearly dinnertime!”

Alexander turned his head with a bright smile. “How many dinnertimes until we get there?”

“I don't know, maybe you can work it out after dinner?” Primrose held out her hand and led him back inside.

Alexander took a last glance forward and squeezed her hand as the first stars appeared in the clear sky.

*

The rain fell in slow, large splats on the deck as Cathie scanned the horizon. Lights danced in the distance as a swell started to buffet the ferry. She reached out a hand to steady herself as she moved forward, quickening her pace as she spotted her younger brother ahead.

“Johnnie! Johnnie, Ma's wanting you,” she called out, wiping a strand of hair from her face.

Johnnie turned from his vantage point and waved.

“It's time for supper, ya mad lad,” Cathie cried out as the rain started to come down heavier.

Johnnie pulled away from the railings and ran over, pulling Cathie into a hug. “Yer all wet,” he laughed.

“And whose fault is that?” Cathie laughed back. “Come on, in we go. Supper now, Liverpool for breakfast.”

*

Johnnie stared ahead, transfixed and terror-struck by the flames that engulfed their house. Mary sobbed in his arms, howling and clinging to him, even after they were safely outside, with Johnny sprawled sitting on the pavement as he held her close. He was vaguely aware of the gathering crowd, torn between gawping at the fire, and at him. There were whispers and admiring looks as the neighbours told each other of his heroic act, raising the alarm and saving his baby sister.

Johnnie felt a strange sense of freedom as the fire raged, and the crowd crackled with excitement. He leaned in close as Cathie sat down beside him and pulled a blanket over them all. He closed his eyes and listened to the fire burn.

*

Primrose stared ahead, mad-eyed and terrified. She cradled Alexander as he wept, his sobs muffled by her body. She watched as the warehouse fire lit up the sky in the distance and wished she could throw her fears into the inferno.

She felt trapped by Johnnie's hold over her brother, trapped by her fear of what his gang could do if she told anyone, trapped by the thought of what the neighbours would do if she ratted on one of their own. She closed her eyes and desperately tried to convince herself as she repeated her words of reassurance to Alexander.

*

Cathie sat on the bus, dead-eyed and sick to her stomach. She could see the foreboding building looming in the distance and turned around, trying not to catch the eye of the conductor or the few remaining passengers. She knew why they were here, just as much as they knew why she was here. The walls towered above the bus window, cutting off the weak sunshine from low in the pale blue sky. It seemed appropriate that colour and brightness had faded from the day.

She heaved a sigh and looked ahead once more, to the future and to the prison where Johnnie was incarcerated.

*

Primrose clung to the railing as she stood on the crowded bus, her eyes downcast, her stomach like an empty pit. She didn't need to see out the window to know she was drawing near to her destination, she felt the pull of eternity, of mortality as the bus slowed, then stopped.

Most of the passengers got off, and Primrose forced herself to go with them, her hand cold and stiff from the metal pole she'd gripped so tightly. She looked up at the drab grey of the sky, the sun barely visible as a muted yellow glow behind the clouds.

She heaved a sigh and looked ahead once more, to the dead future and to the cemetery where Alexander lay.

 


End file.
